


Mannequins

by HeartfeltAdvantages



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everyone is Dead, Multi, This was made on a whim, based off of a writing promt, marco is immortal, maybe some curses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartfeltAdvantages/pseuds/HeartfeltAdvantages
Summary: "Don't pray. Whatever the fuck you do, do not pray. Because the ones that are listening, you do not want them to answer."





	1. Chapter One

Silence.

That was the only sound that he was able to hear. It followed him everywhere, and he never realized that it could be so deafening until now. He never takes off his headphones unless it is absolutely needed, and even then it's in short intervals. He didn't want to face the truth that he was the last human that remained on earth. He was never the type for silence anyway, having been surrounded with music and noises for all his life. But now? He couldn't stand the thought of loosing his one source of comfort.

The sickness came without warning, as they all do. It didn't acted like the typical diseases, however, and currently wasn't the ones that were played out in those cliche movies. It left no marks on the victims and they felt no pain when they died. They did, however, felt increasingly tired as the days progressed, and complained of moments when the only thing they felt was that god-awful migraine and the ringing that comes with it. Sometimes, they didn't even realized that they were infected until it was too late. Despite how harmless the illness may seem, it struck like lighting and left no one in their path. Scientists began sprouting ideas left and right on what it might be, and there were those who believed that was the declaration of war from other countries. Experiments were done to see where it originated from and how they could cure it but to no avail.

The illness lasted five days.

He could only watch as his friends died off before him one by one, and in a way he was glad that his family did not have to experience the illness for themselves. He managed to last a week before he started talking to the mannequins. At first, it started with simple little phases. Then as the time progressed, it turned into one sided conversation that he would have for hours at a time before realizing that he was just talking to himself. That didn't stopped him, though. In fact, he even took it upon himself to name them.

Overtime, the mannequins weren't just substitutes for human interaction. They became actual, living creatures. There was Grenda, the old women who helped in the war. Kyle, the depressed teen that wants nothing more in life than to become a singer. Lily and Owen, the twins that was bent on becoming the best ice skater in the world. They transformed into people that had hopes and dreams and fears. They became his friend when he was happy. They became his enemy when he was pissed. They became his family.

That was a year ago, yet to him it only felt like a couple of days.

 

Marco navigated the empty streets with a smile on his face and a skip in his step. Today he was going to talk to Star, and those itself were always fun if it wasn't for the fact that today was her birthday. Even though the concept of time means nothing to him, he still likes celebrating the occasion whenever he can. In his bag was some water paint and brushes along with other drawing materials, and he could almost see the look of excitement when he gives her the gift. The brunet clicked his tongue, a habit he'd formed over the years when he was extremely happy, and lowered the volume for his headphones. As he paused in front of the abandoned boutique, a gust of wind blew over the town and disturbed the once still scene before it passed.

Glancing at the window pane to see if he looked presentable, Marco nodded once in satisfaction before entering, a bell signaling his arrival as chocolate brown eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light. The shop was heavy with dust and, like the rest of the world, was frozen in time. Articles of clothing hung on racks, and he leafed through them thoughtfully before picking one up and holding it in front of his body.

"What do you think, Stella? Does this shirt look good on me, or should I find something else?"

The mannequin said nothing, and he tilted his head before nodding in agreement. "You're right, it's too tacky. What about this one? I like the design- It's simple yet flashy, and it's really soft, too." He smiled in confidence as he held it up for the mannequin to see. After a pause, he frowned but it still held a playful edge in it. "Well, too bad. I'm getting it. Screw your opinions."

He pulled it off the hanger and folded it neatly before putting it in his bag, taking out the gift in the process as he wandered through the empty store. "Hey, Star! Where are you?" Turning a corner, he beamed at the dummy and rushed to her, bouncing on the heels of his feet like a child. "Happy birthday, Star!" The brunet pulled her into a quick hug before stepping back to hand her the gift. "Ta-da!" His hands started moving rapidly as he talked, practically giddy off his excitement.

"You told me you were starting to get into painting, so I thought, why not get her some of the basics? And from what- the pieces you showed me were really good, Star, like, _really_ good. I thought that it might be one of your phases where you get obsessed with something and then drop it after, what? A week? But you've been so into it, so I thought that I might help you along the way by getting you what you need! Maybe you can even go to those big time art school, y'know? Imagine- imagine seeing your work in the papers or in their very own building!"

Marco paused for air and hand a hand through his wavy locks. He could almost see it- Star graduating from college and pursuing her dreams of becoming an artist, winning tons of awards for her pieces and being so damn happy just because she's doing something that she love. "How has your birthday been so far? Did anyone else stopped by for a visit? I bet Stella's planning on taking you to some club to get drunk and party till the sun's up, huh? I was just talking to her, too. She's being more snappy than usual, did something happened to her?" He gasped. "Did she broke up with Henry? Man, they were such a power couple, too!"

The rest of the day went by in a blur, and Marco was shocked to see the sky turning crimson. Rolling over to his back, he brushed away his bangs and leaned against Star. He felt exhausted from all the activities they have done together, and the only thing he wanted to do now was sleep. The duo were sitting underneath a tree and had been there for the past hour, just talking about the things that popped into their minds. His eyes started to close on their own, and he was on the verge of sleep when he heard it. For a moment, he didn't understand what it was, but when he did, he felt his blood run cold as all the hairs on the back of his neck stood.

In a flash, the mannequin was on the ground as he stood on shaky legs, taking shallow breaths as he stared at it in horror. The dummy could only stare at him with unblinking eyes, and he felt a shiver run down his body. It spoke. _The fucking dummy just spoke._ And what it just said terrified you.

" _Help me."_


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting this was a pain. The things I do for you kids.
> 
> Edit 1-  
> For the white text, highlight it and put it through a base64 convertor.

Isolation.

That was what Marco put himself through after the incident. He doesn't see the mannequins as his friends- instead he sees them as something that is absolutely terrifying. All sorts of theories ran through his head as he paced back and forth in his room, some of them ranging from him finally becoming bat-shit insane or that the mannequins are actually real humans beings and are trapped like since the beginning.

If that was the case, then why wasn't he a mannequin as well? Was it because of his immortality?

Time have already lost it's meaning on him after a couple thousand years, yet it seem to move unbearably slow for him now. He couldn't even remember if he was eating or not. He was forever lost in his thoughts, some ranging from fond memories to terrifying speculations of what might have happened to the trapped souls. Did it have something to do with the sickness?

It was a full month until he heard his computer ping.

For a moment, Marco thought that it was only his imagination- it have been so long since he had heard something that wasn't his own voice or his music. When it happened again, he got up from the bed and brushed away the bangs that was starting to become bothersome again. When was the last time he gave himself a haircut? Self-consciously running a hand through his hair that had no doubt grew longer over the days, he grabbed the somewhat dusty glasses off the desk and put it on to read the notification.

\-- IsobrontAbderian [IA] at 8:47 AM sent a message--

Marco stared at the message in confusion. How was this even possible? He was almost certain that he was the last human alive. He jumped when another message appeared on the messaging app he downloaded when it was still in use.

IA: I doubt that anyone would read this, if everyone is dead

IA: But I don't think that that's the case

IA: The mannequins spoke. Maybe I'm finally going crazy, but I know that what I heard was real

A broken version of a laugh came out of Marco's mouth before he could stop it, and the brunet ran a hand through his hair again before he began typing furiously. If he had to be honest, he was terrified at the possibility that this might be the outcome of his immortality- that after all these months of being isolated from any form of life, he was finally beginning to loose it. But on the other hand...

\-- HeartfeltAdvantages [HA] at 8:50 AM sent a message--

HA: holy shit is this for real

HA: i thought i was the last one left how in the FUCK is this possible

IA: Oh

IA: I didn't expect this to be an actual thing

HA: who the hell are you

IA: I don't think that's important right now.

IA: What we need to do is figure out what in the goddamn hell is going on

IA: Any suggestions?

He leaned back heavily in his chair and stared into space, racking his brain to come up with any logical responses. In the end, he bit back a cough and typed.

HA: sorry, no.

HA: the only thing that keeps popping into my head is ghosts

HA: and this isn't another goddamn episode of supernatural

IA: Holy shit, I love that show

IA: But back to the topic on hand before I forget, which is how in the hell are you even alive

IA: : Either you're the cure we needed for this damn infection like all those other cliche tropes

IA: Which would be dumb btw since everyone else is already dead

IA: Or you're immortal.

IA: Which one is it?

HA: which one are you?

IA: : Easy

IA: I'm immortal. Been that way for years

HA: you're shitting me

IA: Nope

HA: but i thought i was the only immortal here.

HA: what in the actual FUCK is going on????

IA: Why do you think I'm asking you?

\-- CapnomancyVorticity [CV] at 9:45 AM sent a message--

 CV: Please tell me I'm not dreaming.

CV: I would literally jump off a fucking building if I wsa making this up.

IA: I assure you, you're not dreaming

IA: Although it would appear that we are all in a similar situation

IA: Would anyone else like to show themselves before we carry on with this conversation?

This had to be a joke, right? Marco took off his glasses to make sure that he wasn't dreaming before staring at the text of colors before him. His eyes were started to strain from the prolong use of his glasses since he found no reason to use them anymore. How many more were like him? How long did they went through the same fate as him?

How long did they last without hearing the mannequins?

Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, he buried his head in his arms and closed his eyes. His posture relaxed overtime, and soft snores was soon heard as silence descended over him like a blanket.

In a nearby store, one of the mannequin took a step.

\----------------

Tom stared at the message of text and sighed heavily under his breath, looking out of his apartment and stared at the ghost town. The sky was painted an ugly gray, and thunder rumbled off in the distance. He was hoping that it wouldn't rain, but nope. Look like his day was going to turn out sour after all, like always. He should have been expecting this, really. He been on this miserable planet longer than he'd like to admit.

Narrowing his eyes at the dreary scenery and muttering curses inside his head against the gods that control the weather, he grabbed a random hoodie off the floor and sniffed it once to see if it was usable. Noticing that it was, he put it over his shirt and started to head upstairs to the roof.

It was a dumb idea, really, to go out in the open when there was the threat of rain approaching, but he wanted to get away from that stuffy room as soon as possible, lest he wrapped a rope around his neck. Tom scoffed at the thought and continued the trek up the goddamn stairs. Seriously, whose bright idea was it to put this much steps in a building? Better yet- whose bright idea was it to make the building so damn high in the first place?

When he finally made it up to the roof after what felt like an eternity, he walked to the edge of the building and lowered his body to the ground. His legs swung back and forth in a slow rhythm as he stared at the sky in thought, ignoring the ping from his phone from the two strangers he'd managed to discovered.

Honestly, he was surprised that his idea worked at all. He only did it out of desperation after he heard one of the store dolls spoke when he was out and about. For a fleeting moment, he thought that it was only his imagination. Then it happened again. And again. _And again._

It was just this screaming canopy of voices begging to be freed from their prison and it circled him like a cloak, tight and suffocating and painful and _loud-_

_Ping!_

Tom shook his head from his thoughts and fished for his phone, ignoring how violently his hands shook as he attempted to read the message.

\-- at 9:55 sent a message--

MTAwIGFyZSBsZWZ0Lg0KV2Ugd2lsbCBmaW5kIHlvdSBzb29uLg0KWW91IG9ubHkgaGF2ZSBzbyBtdWNoIHRpbWUgbGVmdCwgZmFsbGVuIGFuZ2VsLg== 

Son of a _bitch._

_\----------------_

When Marco finally woke up, his neck had a crick in it and he let out a groan as he rubbed it tenderly. "Fuck..." He wiped the drool off the side of his face (ew) and waited for his vision to adjust. Like before, he was staring at a row of colorful text that, at the moment, didn't even made any sense.

Glancing outside the window, he did a double take when he saw the figure standing off at the distance. "Holy shit!" Nearly falling over in his rush to get off the swivel chair, he took off in a mad dash out the door and almost tripped over his feet several times when he reached the steps.

Was he having some sort of lucid dream? God, he hoped not. The thought alone made his chest clench painfully, so he pushed the idea away and forced his body to run as fast as possible. They were almost there! He doesn't have to be alone anymore!

Slamming his feet so hard that he fell, Marco let out a gasp of pain as his arms skidded against the gravel, and he could already taste the blood filling his mouth when he bit his tongue. "How... How how _how how?!_ "

The mannequin said nothing, and over the distance, lightning flash overhead, bathing everything in a yellow light.

 


	3. Chapter Three

CV: Is everything okay where you are?

CV: I don't think I'll be able to handle the fact that more of us are being wiped out every day.

AL: dont worry about me, darling

AL: worry about yourself

AL: is everything alright where you are?

CV: Yeah

CV: If you count being hunted by God's know what alright.

CV: Did anyone else went missing?

AL: no

AL: and that what worries me

AL: what are they waiting for? they already got us running around with out tails between our legs

AL: what more do they want from us

CV: I don't know, and that's what scares me the most.

Jackie leaned back against her chair and stayed at her tablet, a frown tugging the corners of her mouth downwards on her otherwise pretty face. The only light that was visible was from her device and aside from the headache that it was giving her, it also filled her with a sense of unease.

Ever since the sickness broke out, she hasn't been able to sleep as soundly as she once did. It was an endless cycle of checking over her shoulder at the tiniest of sounds; flinching whenever something move from the corner of her eye, doing a double take whenever she sees something that's not supposed to be there only to realize that it was just her imagination. It certainly didn't help that she was an insomniac, so that little tidbit just adds to the ever growing list of _Things That I Hate About Myself_.

Breathing in deeply through her nose and exhaling from her mouth, Jackie ran her fingers through her hair and stared out the cracked window. The streets were empty, like always, and she listened to the wind that howled at her with disdain. While she always enjoyed rain, now wasn't the best of times.

"Fan-flipping-tastic," she muttered dryly to herself, clicking her tongue as she scrolled through the previous messages idly. She jumped at the sudden knock on her door and was on high alert instantly. Pulling out the gun that was in the drawer she was using as a foot stool, she moved cautiously through the room, thankful that her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. Counting under her breath, Jackie unlocked the door in a single motion and held out the weapon at whoever the _fuck_ was at her door because she have had it up to _here_ with all this running and hiding and-

"Jesus, Jackie, it's me!"

Releasing the air she didn't even realized she was holding, Jackie lowered the gun and made some room for Ludo to enter, although given how small he was it wasn't really that necessary. The young adult, muttering so many swears that sailors would cringe, dropped the duffel bag on the table and rolled up the sleeve of his jacket that was covered with dirt and dried blood. A severe burn decorated the majority of his arm that stood out against the multiple scratches, and judging by the blisters that are already forming along the injury, it must have happened fairly recently. Jackie made a face at the sight and instantly went to work, running to the bathroom to get the necessary supplies.

"Ludo, what _happened_ while you were out?"

"I was jumped, to put it lightly." He reached into the bag and pulled out a beat-up flask, unscrewing the cap and drinking the contents like it was his last day on earth. "I swear, those bastards move like freaking ninjas! Didn't even saw 'em until they started attacking me and the others." He winced when Jackie rubbed the medicine on the wound and she apologized quickly.

"And what about the others?"

"Some didn't made it. Al's crying a frigging river because we lost Ferg, and Beck looks like they're about to punch a wall."

"Shit..."

Jackie made a mental note to check up on them when she was done with Ludo. Wrapping the bandages around his arm, she suddenly felt an intense anger at the son of bitches who did this to them. Alfonso and Ferguson could have been living happily somewhere. Ludo could have went to college. Hell, she could have been in the frigging _Olympics_ if the chance was given. But instead, they were here reenacting a scene from any end-of-the-world shit and sitting around like lambs to the slaughter.

Like always, she kept those thoughts to herself and suck in a deep breath. Now wasn't the time for dwelling in the past. Now was the time for action.

"Call up a house meeting. We're gonna have to change a few things first if things keep going this way."

\----

Every fiber in Marco's body screamed at him to run, but he forced his body to walk closer to the dummy. Brushing away brown locks, he extended a cautious hand towards the doll and tilted his head, his face knitted together in confusion.

"How..."

He let out a curse when a sudden flare of radiating heat shot up his arm, the reaction so surprising that he lost his footing again. Falling ungracefully to the ground, he stared wide-eyed at the mannequin and watched in a mixture of horror and amazement as the head of the doll slowly adjusted until it was looking down at him. The noises it let out was just an endless mess of cracking that made him flinch several times, and he almost didn't heard what it said until a second after.

_"You...did...this..."_

Marco opened his mouth but no words came out, so instead he chose to bit the bottom of his lip; he tried to ignore the blood that seeped into his mouth or the shot of electricity that ran down his body. This was... Scrambling to his feet and ignoring the sudden bursts of pain Marco ran back to his haven as fast as he can, almost falling down again at the sudden unholy screech that came out of the lone mannequin.

It was like it setting off a bomb.

The only thing he heard was the agonized screams of the trapped souls all begging to be set free. They kept repeating the same sentence over and over and _over and over_ -

_"YOU DID THIS!"_

Breathing heavily, Marco pressed his body against the door. His legs felt like jelly, and he was honestly surprised that he didn't passed out. Instead of going with what his brain was screaming at him to do- which was to panic the hell out- he allowed his legs to give out as the brunet slumped to the floor with a thud.

Bringing his legs to his chest, the brunet ran his fingers through his hair before gripping it tightly; almost to the point of pulling it. A snicker, then a giggle until it morphed into hysteric laughter that left him gasping for air. His entire body shook as he struggled to calm himself down only for the laughter to return at full force. "Oh my..." He couldn't even speak properly- his sentences broken by giggles as he pushed the bangs away from his eyes.

"You did this, huh...? I never thought that _this_ would happen. Whoop-dee-doo."

\----

HA: and that's the whole story

HA: honestly, this whole thing is something straight outta stephen king's mind

HA: any thoughts?

IA: Voodoo

HA: nice one, wise guy

HA: i'm being serious

IA: And I seriously don't know what to do.

IA: What do I look like? God?

HA: maybe we should try praying

HA: y'know, try to get an answer for all of this nonsense

IA: DON'T PRAY

IA: WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU DO, DON'T PRAY

Marco blinked in confusion. This was not the response that he wanted to get.

HA: why not?

IA: Because the ones that are listening

IA: You do not want them to answer.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus is potentially over! Maybe. I don't know.
> 
> Also, I'm working on creating a game with a friend of mine and we need more people to help us out. If anyone is interested, then please go to the link at the bottom of this message. We need as much people as we can if we want to make this a reality.
> 
> Link-  
> https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1Zql5UNDOFMO3EF4p5MaxlorMOzHx-rZTb8uz-JFfH0o/edit

"Don't pray...?" Marco squinted at the message in confusion. He didn't get what was making them so nervous in the first place. In situations like this- mostly in movies- the main cast always send out a prayer or some sort of question from God demanding for an answer on why he allowed this to happen to the Earth. Why was this the exception? His fingers still shaking from the encounter that will most likely haunt his dreams, he began typing once more.

 

HA: i thought in situations like this...?

IA: You thought wrong

IA: You don't know what's going on up there, and you should be glad that that's the case.

IA: Heaven is gone.

HA: what, like, metaphorically?

IA: No, I mean that literally

IA: Everything is gone, dude.

IA: Heaven, hell, earth

IA: And soon we'll be gone to if we don't figure out what the fuck is going on that's causing this to happen.

HA: you mentioned that i don't want 'them' to hear me

HA: who's 'them' ?

HA: and how do you know about them, anyways?

IA: I don't know who they are, but I DO know that they're the cause of all this shit falling apart

IA: As for how I know them

IA: You don't really want to know the answer to that question, buddy.

IA: Some things are best left forgotten, as I always say.

 

Dozens of anxious dirty faces stared at Jackie from where she was standing, and she felt her heart reach out to all of them. She was lucky to have found this many of them, although she wasn't ready to face the fact that the numbers of their members are quickly decreasing. One ugly truth at a time.

"I'm going to be skipping the usual pleasantries and get right down to business." Her voice echoed in the somewhat quiet room, Alfonso's muffled whimpers reaching her ears and almost broke the facade she displayed. Instead she swallowed hard and continued talking, ignoring the way how her voice shook in her own ears. God, she was becoming weak. "For those of you who didn't went out to look for supplies today, it have been brought to my attention that we have lost Ferguson. As it is custom for us to do, we will be holding a memorial service in honor of his life. Is that okay, Alfonso?"

He nodded weakly, wiping away the tears that still continued to fall and pressing harder on his mouth to keep the sobs from reaching out. "Can I-" A string of coughs broke his sentence, and he struggled to breathe for several moments. "Can I say something?" Jackie nodded and stepped to the side so that he would be in the center. Standing besides him, she was able to see just how hard this was affecting him. His face lost the usual childish glow it had and was replaced with a hollow look, his eyes dull and sunk in his face that gave him an almost zombie-like appearance.

Alfonso took a wavering breath and began talking. "Before Ferguson was... taken, he said that he wanted everyone to know something. He said that he was able to find out where one of the creatures base was, and said that if he died, the information would be in his notebook." He held out a worn out book for everyone to see before he continued. "I checked it out and saw that their base is in the town besides us. The reason why he wasn't able to tell us sooner was because it was, and I quote, 'A goddamn bitch to decipher'." Alfonso smiled sadly at that and glanced at Jackie to let her know that he was done. She nodded in appreciation and gave him a hug, whispering an apology in his ears and placing a kiss on the side of his face before ushering him off the stage.

"Thank you, Alfonso. Thank to Ferguson, we now have a location on where they are. I doubt that it would be easy, but right now we have the upper hand on them. We are going to teach them not to mess with us anymore and avenge our fallen friends once and for all!"

The cheers that went up was deafening, and Jackie grinned at their enthusiasm.

 

AL: darling, are you sure you want to do this?

AL: you said it yourself, those things are dangerous!

AL: going headfirst into their nest like that...

CV: Don't worry about me

CV: And besides, we'll be able to help you out in the process since you live there.

CV: We need all the help, miss.

AL: i know you do, darling, but are you SURE that we should be doing this?

AL: for all we know, we could be walking right into a trap.

CV: You don't think I know that? 

CV: Look, I don't know about you, but I am getting fucking piss at what's going on now. 

CV: I know that WE are supposed to be the "monsters", but what those bastards did to Alfonso and Ferg is downright disgusting 

CV: What they did to US is disgusting! 

CV: I want those inky son of bitches to know the true meaning of fear when they really see what kind of demons we are.


End file.
